


Wine and Brownies

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-29
Updated: 2005-10-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: Hermione's moping. Wine, Brownies, and Ron make her feel Better





	Wine and Brownies

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Hermione was fuming. She had spent the better part of the afternoon rushing to finish her own work at the Department of Mysteries so that she could help Ron work on his potion for his Concealment and Disguise test. She’d been on her way to meet him when she saw him with Phoebe. They were laughing and leaning into each other. Hermione saw red and when Ron turned around she Apparated before he could say anything.

 

So here she sat—another Friday night spent alone and she was bloody tired of it. She saw lightening flashing in the distance and wondered how she could feel any worse. She was playing with her hair, twisting around her fingers, and suddenly she remembered the whole pan of brownies in her kitchen. It was going to take a lot more than brownies to make her feel better and her mind did a quick inventory of the kitchen.

 

“Accio brownies! Accio whipped cream! Accio chocolate sauce! Accio wine!” She said and flicked her wand. When the items hovered before her she reached up and began placing the items on the table. She thought about getting a glass for her wine but decided it really didn’t make a bit of difference—no one was going to be here but her and it really didn’t matter if she got totally pissed.

 

She leaned forward and drizzled the chocolate sauce over the brownies. The whipped cream came next, and then she opened the wine. She took a long pull and sat back on the couch—the wine in one hand and the pan of brownies on her lap. Staring out the window she dipped her fingers into the brownie and pulled some from the pan. Her eyes closed in pleasure as she savored the way the chocolate and whipped cream tasted—this was better than sex. It became almost mechanical—she’d take a bite of brownie and wash it down with wine. She felt a pleasant buzzing in her head and knew she was well on her way to getting totally pissed. She giggled softly and wondered what Harry and Ron would say if they could see her now.

 

Lightening flashed, the living room lit up, and then with a crash of thunder the electricity went out. She reached for her wand again and pointed towards each of the candles scattered around her flat. She smiled as the room became illuminated by glowing candles and went back to her pan of brownies. She heard the thunder again and it just rolled on and on across the night sky. Only when a voice called out from the hall did she realize someone was pounding on her door.

 

“Hermione, I know you’re in there!”

 

Damn! she thought to herself, what the hell was he doing here? She was enjoying her own company and it was really rather rude for him to interrupt.

 

“If you don’t open up I’ll break down the door!”

 

Honestly the man was so dramatic—hadn’t he ever heard of using magic? You would think that growing up as a wizard would have made his options clear. Her thoughts flowed over each other and penetrated the haze of fog surrounding her brain. He sounded angry and she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

Two seconds later Hermione was stunned to hear a loud crash and the watched in disbelief as the door of her flat burst open.

 

“What are you doing!”

 

“I warned you Hermione—told you I’d break it down!”

 

He looked furious and Hermione’s heart gave a leap when she realized not only was he furious but soaking wet from the rain that was lashing against the windows. His red hair was flattened against his scalp, she could make out droplets of water on his face, and his black t-shirt was molded to his body in a way that should be illegal.

 

“You were supposed to meet me!”

 

“Well you looked occupied,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “I figured you no longer needed my help.” Her words were a bit slurred and she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

 

“What are you going on about?” He growled.

 

She felt his eyes on her as she took a long pull of wine from the bottle and realized she’d forgot to take her bite of brownie. She was doing things out of order and decided to go ahead and have a bite now. She looked up to see Ron watching her intently as she pulled a bit of brownie from the pan and placed it in her mouth. She raised the bottle in silent salute and took another long swallow of wine, enjoying the way it warmed her body, and to her horror she felt the on rush of tears approaching. Wine was the only thing she had to keep her warm—that and her books.

 

“It looked as though you had recruited Phoebe to help you,” she said softly. “You didn’t really need me.”

 

“Don’t be daft, Hermione! Phoebe doesn’t have a brain in that blonde head of hers.”

 

“That must be why you like her! You’ve always gone for looks haven’t you?”

 

She distracted herself with another bite of brownies and she licked the whipped cream from her fingers while she waited for his response.

 

“You’re jealous,” he said softly. “You’re jealous.”

 

“Oh don’t be a prat. You asked me to help you and I just decided that perhaps I wasn’t what you needed.” Her hand shook as she raised the wine to her lips and she bit her lips to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of crying in front of him.

 

“Ron, I’d really like to be alone. Could you just leave?”

 

The lights flickered in the flat and came back on much to her chagrin. She finally got a good look at him and she’d be hard pressed to come up with a more arousing image. Ron wore rain well; it coated his face, and his clothes were soaked and clinging to his body. He was studying her, those blue eyes bore into her brown, and he crossed his arms across his chest.

 

“No—I don’t think I will leave.”

 

Hermione stared at him nervously as he walked across the room towards her. He looked like a predator stalking its prey and she shifted uncomfortably on the couch. The look in his eyes confused her until she realized it was desire—desire that was directed at her.

 

“Of course you’ll go. It’s my flat,” she said, her voice trembled as he grew closer and sank to his knees in front of her. “It would be rude if you didn’t.”

 

“When have I ever cared about whether something I did was rude?”

 

She was clenching the pan and his thumb ran slowly across the back of her hand and she tried to look away from him but couldn’t.

 

“You know it’s you that’s being rude,” he whispered and leaned forward. “You didn’t even offer me a brownie.”

 

“Do you want a brownie?”

 

Her eyes were drawn almost by force to his lips and then she lifted them back to meet his blue eyes. They had darkened to a midnight blue and she trembled under his stare.

His hands pulled the brownies from her grasp and he placed them behind him on the table.

 

“No, I don’t want a brownie…” he said softly, and his head descended until his lips were just inches from hers. “I want you.”

 

She couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped and she shivered as his lips took hers. He parted her lips effortlessly and his tongue invaded her mouth to dance against hers. It was better than brownies, than the wine, and she let loose of the wine bottle to thread her fingers through his wet hair.

 

He lifted his head to trail kisses along her jaw and she tilted her head slightly to give him access to her neck. His mouth sent a trail of fire directly to her belly and she moaned softly.

 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, taking the lobe of her ear between his teeth and nibbling. “Do you want me Hermione?”

 

She couldn’t think, she could only feel and the words left her mouth before she could hold them back. “So badly I ache.”

 

She heard him moan deep in his throat and he stood suddenly. He pulled her off of the couch and into his arms. He felt so good pressed fully against her and her mind was swimming with desire.

 

“Take me to bed, Ron.”

 

His hand shook as he raised it to her cheek and lightly stroked from her cheek to her lip. His eyes searched hers and she could read the question there.

 

“I’m sure Ron. I’ve loved you since I was eleven.”

 

She could feel his heart racing under her palm and his eyes were unreadable.

 

“It’s okay Ron—you don’t have to say it back. I just thought you should know.”

 

His hands came up to cup her face and his lips claimed hers in a chaste kiss that held promise. He lifted his head, wiping away the tears that were flowing down her cheek, and he smiled the lopsided grin that won her heart so many years ago.

 

“I knew I loved you when I saw you petrified,” he whispered. “Part of me was missing. The good part.” She lifted her hands to cover his, intending to kiss him but he continued. “Then I saw you after the Mandrake drought and it was the best thing I’d ever seen. I was so happy and for the first time I felt whole.” She was surprised to see his eyes fill with tears. “I love you, Hermione. I just never thought you’d love me back.”

 

“Honestly, Ron!” she said and pulled his lips back to hers. This kiss was different, it was as though a dam had opened, and all the emotion of the last eight years came flooding out. Tongues slid against each other, teasing, exploring, and Hermione gasped when he picked her up into his arms.

 

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered, and started down the hallway. “Tell me that’s what you want.”

 

“Yes, you’re what I want.”

 

He reached her bedroom and placed her gently onto the floor. Their eyes locked and Hermione took a step towards him, reaching out with shaking hands, she began tugging his shirt over his head. Her passion mounted as each inch of his lean chest was revealed. He allowed her to slide the shirt over his head and she couldn’t help but run a hand down his chest. She stepped closer to him and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. She felt the shudder that ran through him and felt a surge of power flow through her. She trailed kisses down over his chest, to his nipples and flicked them lightly with her tongue, and then sunk to her knees in front of him.

“Hermione, what are you doing?”

 

 

“Something I’ve wanted to do for about two years. It’s actually one of my favorite fantasies, and I fully intended to wait—but I can’t.” She ran her hand along the zipper of his trousers and felt him throbbing beneath her hand.

 

“Will you let me, Ron?”

 

She watched his eyes roll back into his head and felt the tremor in his legs as she worked the button and pulled his zipper down. She reached up and tugged at his waistband, sliding his trousers down his legs, and the she ran her hands up and down the back of them. She reached down and pulled his wand from his pocket and then nuzzled the erection tenting his boxers.

 

“Accio whipped cream!” She caught it in her hand and heard a low moan of desperation above her.

 

She ignored it and slowly worked his boxers down his hips passed his erection, and when she reached his ankles she lifted his foot to take them off.

 

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered and ran finger along the underside of his shaft. “And hard.”

 

“Please,” he thrust his hips forward and she heard the quiet desperation in his voice. “Please…”

 

She picked up the can of whipped cream and coated him with it. She bent her head and began delicately lapping the whipped cream. She felt his hands entwine in her hair and he was moaning non-stop—her name spilling from his lips. She finally removed all the cream and took him fully into her mouth relishing the taste of him.

 

“Don’t stop,” he whispered, and she looked up at him. There was desperate hunger in his eyes. His hips were thrusting forward and his hands fisted in her hair. She enveloped him fully into her mouth and hummed her way down his length. The power she had over him was drugging, arousing, and her own need was desperately aching to be filled.

 

She slid her mouth down his length one more time before he roughly pulled her from him.

 

“Can’t take anymore,” he growled. “ I want to be inside you when I come.”

 

His hands flew to the zipper on her skirt and roughly shoved it down her hips. She helped him along by stepping out of her shoes and she let out a soft cry as he ripped the knickers from her body.

 

“So warm,” he whispered against her lips as he slid a finger through her folds. “Wet.”

 

 

She cried out when thrust a finger inside her and teased her apex with his thumb. The sensation was incredible and fire flowed through her veins. She needed him now, she needed him to take her, she wanted to see him break apart, and she wanted to hear her name fall from his lips.

 

She claimed his lips, boldly thrusting her tongue between them, and she pushed his shoulder causing him to fall back onto the bed.

 

“Inside, I want you inside me now!” she said, moaning as her body came in contact with his. He was just there at her entrance and she slowly lowered herself onto his hardness.

 

They both cried out in unison, their eyes locked, and she heard him whisper her name as she began raising and lowering herself on him. She entwined their hands together at her hips and threw her head back. He felt so good and she wanted to watch him. Her eyes traced his features, his head was rolling back and forth, his jaw was clenched, and she could hear his ragged breathing.

 

“More,” he called out, and she increased her pace.

 

She released one of his hands and felt it slide to her center, his fingers slid against her clit, driving her mad, and she ground her hips into his. The resulting sensation sent them both plummeting over the edge. He called out her name repeatedly, his eyes wide and locked with hers, and she felt herself break apart.

 

“I love you, Ron!” she called out over and over as waves of pleasure slammed through her body. She felt him thrusting upwards and called out again as he spilled into her.

 

They collapsed together, their bodies a tangled mass of arms and legs, and she felt him tremble against her.

 

“A little bit dominant there aren’t you Hermione?” he said, sounding breathless.

 

“Are you complaining?”

 

She lifted her head and looked down at him.

 

“Not at all Hermione. But next time it’s my turn.”


End file.
